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The last thing I expected to fly out of my boxers 0

Dear Bradshaw,

            Earlier today, I retrieved my dried laundry from the rack on our balcony (no driers here), brought it inside, and as I was folding my third pair of boxers, a HUGE horribly filthy moth flew out, flapped against my face, and then dropped to the floor, bouncing off the couch as it fell and leaving a trail of gray moth-gunk on the fabric. I screamed like a little girl and dashed into the bathroom to wipe off my face, and then I grabbed Jimi and locked her in the bedroom so she wouldn’t leave me with shredded moth guts all over the place. Returned to the living room, I thought at first it might be dead but upon closer inspection (not too close, of course) I saw it pulsing and throbbing and the repulsive features of its head and body. Since picking it up with my bare hand and carrying it outside was out of the question, I went into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and a piece of cardboard, and then went back to the living room, covered the monster with the bowl, maneuvered the cardboard underneath, and then took it outside and let it go. Whoa boy, baby. That was the last thing I expected to fly out of my boxers.

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